


Scrimshaw

by WrenBaker



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash, scrimshaw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-14
Updated: 2012-12-14
Packaged: 2017-11-21 02:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/592540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrenBaker/pseuds/WrenBaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I hate writing previews</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scrimshaw

Scrimshaw

Castiel sat with a curiously intense look on his face. His head was cocked to one side, with characteristically focused eyes as he concentrated on the task at hand.  
In his hands he was wielding a knife (not badly, but then again not particularly well either) on a piece of driftwood. Lying on the bed nearby Dean was fast asleep and completely aware that Castiel was nearby, and struggling with wood carving.  
If he had been awake he would have wondered why Castiel had popped out of nowhere in the middle of the night to whittle ineffectively in his motel room. He also would have wondered where Castiel had gotten the idea from, he had been watching a lot of TV recently (mostly soap operas and bad porn) but not the scrimshaw channel.  
Whereupon he would have wondered aloud about whether or not there was a scrimshaw channel, and then he would make a joke. Possibly funny, but unintelligible to Castiel.  
Castiel knew all of this, he knew Dean better than anyone. In two ways, he knew Dean better than anyone else that knew Dean. But Dean was also the closest person he knew, angel or otherwise.

That would have seemed sad, if Castiel had any concept of the emotional implications involved in that truth.  
However despite all of that, Castiel wasn’t sure why he was carving in the middle of the night. In the dark. In Dean’s room. Secretly.  
Sometimes he just did things because they seemed right, or if it seemed as if it would make Dean happy. In fact he wasn’t even particularly sure what he was carving. He’d never performed the action before, and he was still hazy on many human customs.  
It had taken a painfully long amount of time to understand food (or at least the pleasure involved), not to mention reality TV or sex.  
Castiel was still getting used to the concept of sex on both a physical and physiological level. Like how to some people sex between the same sex was wrong. Some (many) parts of humanity confused Castiel, but the more he ‘hung around’ (as Dean would say) the more he understood.

Unfortunately there were many parts of Dean that he didn’t understand, he saved many people but thought himself useless. But he also believed in inherent rights that were separate to and granted by nobody, not even Castiel’s father.  
Like free will. Dean was a great believer in free will, and Castiel was still trying to understand the full scope of the concept. Dean had always had it, (even when he was obedient to his father). But it was like explaining seeing in several dimensions to Dean, he did not yet have the capabilities.   
Dean’s approach to his brother was also somewhat confusing, Castiel did like Sam. Granted not as much as he liked Dean, but he was his third favourite human. After Bobby.  
Castiel liked that Dean was so loyal to his brother; he wished that his family in heaven was as loyal. Yet he did not understand Dean’s need to justify Sam’s defence. Castiel did not understand many things as humans did. But he understood family. 

Granted he didn’t have much family left, or at least people that he considered family. As Dean had once said there was a difference between family and relatives.  
The last of Castiel’s family had died with Gabriel and Balthazar. The last two people that Castiel considered family where Sam and Bobby. They were like brothers.  
But despite his profound bond with Dean he faltered at thinking of him as a brother. It felt wrong somehow.  
These thoughts ran through Castiel’s head as he continued to whittle away. The last parts of his admittedly ‘crappy’ carving were almost done. It wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t neat but it was as good as he could make. He smiled absentmindedly at the figurine, he was oddly proud of it.   
It wasn’t perfect and it wasn’t pretty but it was made with, emotions. So he hoped that Dean would appreciate it. It helped that the bottom was covered in Enochian symbols so wherever Dean and Sam went Castiel would be able to find them. Despite the angel-blocking symbols on their ribs.  
It was comforting to know that Castiel could find them. 

He placed the small statuette next to Dean’s bedside, and popped away.   
Many hours later Dean woke up to find a weird figurine next to his bed. He smiled and picked up the carving. Dean sat up against the headboard and examined the carving. It looked like scrimshaw, Dean didn’t think about where it came from.  
He didn’t have to wonder, it looked exactly like Castiel’s work.

Clumsy in human hands but so awkward and cute but well meaning. Dean wondered why Castiel chose to hang around with him, with all that power and knowledge.  
He was more confused as to why he made him scrimshaw, but he was happy about it.  
Dean rolled over and went back to sleep, with the small angel figurine still clasped in one hand.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: It’s my (and my sisters) headcanon that Castiel enjoys scrimshaw, and so this happened.


End file.
